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alarmed to find her limp and silent pressed between his bulk and the slick wall. Withdrawing, he spun her around. She smiled languidly and leaned into him. Closing his eyes, he breathed a sigh of relief. He had to remember to be more careful. Guilt knifed through him, afraid for the first time he might have hurt her. Damn it! He knew his own strength, but even now need overwhelmed him.
    He cleaned them both, dried off first, and returned to turn off the water and wrap her in a towel. Guiding her into the bedroom, he sat her on the bed and looked around with interest. It was not the neatest place he'd ever been. One side was a rail overlooking the downstairs, and one wall backed up to the bathroom. A large sleigh bed was pushed against that wall. The adjacent wall contained a closet and a large dresser, and the wall opposite the bed held an armoire. Opening it, he discovered a television in the top half and overflowing drawers below it.
    “Why do I get the feeling you're going to try and take over my life?” she asked suspiciously from the bed.
    He laughed, a soft sound in the open air of the loft.
    “Because I am,” he said, leaning over to steal a kiss.
    She leveled a steady gaze at him.
    “What is it?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.
    “You have too many secrets to just barge in and try to take over."
    He studied her a minute. “We'll talk about those later. I'll go start dinner while you get dressed."
    * * * *
    She took her time, for once fussing with her appearance. At some point through the night, she'd welcomed Darius into her life. The thought occupied her while she primped, both surprised and bemused at the effort.
    It worried her as much as it amused her. He was dangerous, a definite threat to her independence, but for the first time in years she felt safe and cherished. Her parents had retired to Florida years ago and it was sort of nice to be babied a little. The urge to lean into Darius and let him take over was irresistible.
    Her eyes widened at the revelation. This was not normal for her. This was some crazy hormonal imbalance she had been struck with all of a sudden. She didn't do relationships. So why was the idea so tempting?
    She sighed and rubbed the mark on the back of her shoulder again. All night her fingers had been drawn to it. The mark of his possession. Her traitorous body was all for that. Moving to the closet, she dragged out a clean pair of jeans and opted for a baggy T-shirt. Maybe if she hid her assets, she could strike up a real conversation with him.
    Say, on werewolves. She remembered her grandmother's romantic tales of the creatures and wondered about their reality. Grandma Tinnie's wolf stories were always ‘star-crossed lovers live happily ever after’ affairs. She grinned, thinking about Darius and sex and how heavily those stories must have been edited.
    Dinner was on the bar when she came down and she picked at her food in silence.
    “If you aren't going to eat that, stop mutilating it and hand it over."
    She looked up to see Darius scowling at her while she pushed a piece of steak around on her plate.
    “Take it,” she sighed, handing it over. “Guess I'm not that hungry after all."
    “You have to eat,” he said exasperation plain in his voice. “Here. Try this,” he said, popping a small bite of steak in her mouth.
    Her eyes widened as she chewed. A man feeding her dinner—literally. This was a first.
    “Why did you do that?"
    He smiled. “You've lost weight since I first met you. I like my women with a little meat on their bones."
    Oh really . Anger and jealousy knotted her stomach.
    “Your women ?” she asked. “I've got news for you, buddy. There can be only one. I do not share. Ever ."
    His grin could only be described as triumphant and too late she sensed the trap closing over her head.
    “You've decided to keep me around, huh?” He arched an eyebrow. “Just remember that's a two way street, sweetheart. I don't share either."
    He fed her another piece of